


Hope

by glyphsbowtie



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Not Really Character Death, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-04 20:33:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17311409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glyphsbowtie/pseuds/glyphsbowtie
Summary: At night, she lies awake, eyes burning. She’s run out of tears to cry. She’s starting to believe he’s never coming back. She’ll never see those green eyes crease in amusement at her again.





	Hope

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gyoro_and_Ururun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gyoro_and_Ururun/gifts).



> Sorry it's late!
> 
> I'm mxximum-effort over on Tumblr. :)

“He’s dead,” Jane tells her, shrugging and looking down at her cereal. “He’s not coming back. You don’t have to worry.”

How can Darcy tell Jane that she wasn’t worried about Loki coming back? That she was looking forward to it? Anticipating it with a hunger she hasn’t felt for anything else? She can’t. So she forces a broken smile and sips her coffee, even though something is raging and wounded inside of her.

He can’t be dead, can he? Surely he isn’t. Surely he’s alive. Half the population of the universe died, and they came back. Loki can come back, too. It’s impossible to imagine a universe without him in it.

She dreams of the taste of him, the way his body felt cold and hard against her own. She remembers kissing away his tears as he cried in her arms.

“I am wicked,” he had whispered, over and over again, the words burning into her skin.

She had tried to show him that he wasn’t, with affection and desire and eventually love. His visits had always been sporadic, and then one day there simply weren’t any more visits.

Thor visits, and Jane holds his hand even though they aren’t officially together any more. He looks greyer, shadowy around the edges, and Darcy knows when she looks at him that he’s never going to be the way he was before.

“I’m sorry about Loki,” Jane says to Thor, words she’ll never say to Darcy, and his face crumples.

“Thank you.” He looks over at Darcy. “I’m sure some people think that it is for the best.”

She flushes at the words; how can she tell Thor now that she was, actually, absolutely besotted with his adopted brother? How can she tell him that they were in love, that he was planning to come live with her? Of course she can’t. She’d sound insane. So she just forces herself to keep her expression impassive, says some platitude or other, then goes upstairs to scream into the towels in the bathroom.

At night, she lies awake, eyes burning. She’s run out of tears to cry. She’s starting to believe he’s never coming back. She’ll never see those green eyes crease in amusement at her again.

She has to continue as normal in her real life, because nobody knows about their relationship. She can hardly tell college that she needs time off because Loki of Asgard is dead.

So she continues as normal, day after long, miserable day. She writes essays, reads books, helps Jane with her current project. Eventually, she starts going to parties and bars and drinking again, and this sort of helps.

Even if she spends a lot of mornings drunk and crying at three in the morning, vomiting in the street while strangers hold her hair back.

If Jane notices, she doesn’t say anything. Thor is spending a lot of time at their apartment. Jane initially insisted this was platonic, but it’s clearly not. Darcy catches them looking at each other, knotting their fingers together, whispering together.

Thor being around is probably good for him, but it’s hard for Darcy to look at him without thinking of his brother. Every time Thor touches Jane, she remembers the feeling of Loki’s fingers against her, the way he brushed her hair back, the way his mouth was always so cold.

Her face hurts from fake smiles. Jane sometimes looks at her with a quizzical expression, but she hasn’t ever asked, and Darcy is hardly going to offer up the information.

It’s Thor who brings it up, in the end. It’s late at night, and she’s in the kitchen, trying to work on an essay on her laptop at the table. Thor and Jane went to bed an hour ago, but suddenly he’s back, looking more than a little ridiculous in the plaid pyjamas Jane bought for him.

“He could come back, you know,” Thor says.

Darcy drops her pen. “Who? What?”

“My brother. I think it may be unlikely, but it’s been unlikely every other time, too.”

Hope blossoms in her chest. She’s blushing. “How did you know?”

Thor’s smile is soft and sad. “I know my brother,” he replies, as if that explains it.

Maybe it does.

“I loved him,” she tells Thor. The words catch, get stuck in her throat, but she pushes them out.

He nods, and wraps his arm around her shoulders.

For the next few days, she feels lighter, thinking about the slight possibility he has offered.  _ He could come back.  _ Just like that, it feels ridiculous to have ever supposed that he  _ wouldn’t  _ come back. He’s a lot of things- infuriating, at times cruel, but he’s powerful in a way she doesn’t understand; it’s a different sort of power to that wielded by Thor, it’s something darker and more unsettling. Death isn’t necessarily enough to stop him.

And then Loki returns.

Darcy is leaving Starbucks, a coffee in her hand, collar turned up against the cold. She’s actually smiling to herself, remembering the time Loki surprised her at college with a coffee. She can smile about those things now that there’s hope again.

She drops the coffee when she sees him.

He’s leaning against a building across the street, arms folded across his chest. He looks fine, like he wasn’t ever dead. His long hair is gleaming and flowing elegantly around his handsome face, his green eyes fixed on her as he smiles fondly.

She wants to run to him, but she can’t move. Her legs feel like stone.

He unfolds himself languidly, crossing the street and stopping just before her. She can smell him.

“Is this real?” she asks. “Because if it’s not, I must look like an absolute crazy person.”

He laughs, reaching up to brush her hair back with those cool, strong fingers. “It’s real, but you still look a little strange,” he tells her, then he kisses her.

Darcy melts against him, her hands coming up to frame his narrow face. She has missed this. She missed him. As she kisses him furiously, she feels alive for the first time since she heard he’d died.

“How? How the hell-?” she asks, the moment their mouths become disengaged.

“I’m so sorry, my love. I came as quickly as I could.” The words are sincere.

“But how did you? Thor said you were dead.”

“He was honest. I was.” Loki swallows. For a moment, he looks pained. His eyes are distant. “And now I’m not. It’s hardly the first time, love.”

“It better be the last time,” Darcy tells him, her hands on her hips.

Loki laughs at her. “Only you would speak to a god like that- a god so powerful, in fact, that he clawed his way out of death’s jaws to be with you.”

Darcy smiles, rolling her eyes. “Don’t start that  _ a god so powerful  _ crap again.”

“I love you,” he tells her.

“I love you, too,” she replies. “Let’s go home.”


End file.
